


homecoming

by belovedmuerto



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, empath!John, homecomings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 19:36:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belovedmuerto/pseuds/belovedmuerto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock returns home after a trip abroad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally... much longer. But I couldn't quite get it to gel perfectly, so I cut this piece of it out. Hopefully it works ok.

One moment, John is watching a smart couple weave through the crowd, their heads close together, lost in each other, wondering which of them he finds more attractive, the woman with her long legs and auburn hair or the man with his blue-black hair and musician’s fingers; the next, the crowd has parted and Sherlock is striding towards him.

John watches him approach, smiling gently at him. He looks tired.

Sherlock has been gone for three weeks, called away to a case in Germany. Their connection doesn’t stretch quite that far, their range is good but not yet that good, so they’ve been out of mental contact for the whole time, left to rely on texts and skype and phone calls. None of those are quite adequate when one is used to having one’s partner actually in one’s head.

Sherlock walks right up to him, right into his space, stopping when their bodies are brushing together. He can feel Sherlock’s chest rise with each inhalation. Slowly, Sherlock bends, at the neck, hunching his shoulders, until his forehead meets John’s.

The connection between them snaps and hums, and they both sigh, a shared exhalation. For a long moment, they stand like that, eyes shut, foreheads pressed together. 

It feels like a hello, to John. It feels like ‘I missed you,’ and ‘I love you’ all rolled into one intense emotion. He would reach out, he aches to wrap Sherlock in his arms, but his hands are full of coffee.

Sherlock is the one to straighten first, never one for being overly affectionate in public. He doesn’t need to be, though, when John is swamped by the relief he feels at being home, at being back in John’s mind, and John back in his. There’s a small quirk to his lips, almost a smile, that John recognizes all too well. He knows its meaning.

In what should be a quick exchange, but turns out to be an awkward juggle, John hands Sherlock his still hot cup of coffee, and takes the garment bag off his shoulder, slinging it over his own. 

Once that’s accomplished, John fishes one of the bacon rolls out of his pocket and they juggle a bit again, John taking the coffee back from Sherlock and handing over the roll. Sherlock tucks in as they walk towards the taxi rank. They walk close together, bumping shoulders as they weave through the crowd.

_It’s nice to be home_ , John thinks. He can feel Sherlock’s agreement.


End file.
